Standing in the dimly lit room, facing Ankita, I took a deep breath.
"Uhmm, honestly, I don't know how to confess to you, Ankita," I said, my heart pounding in my chest.
The room was sparsely decorated with yellow balloons, her favorite color. It a...
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Aryan's POV:
“Dadda!!!!”
A loud, chirpy voice froze me in the middle of what I was doing.
My heart skipped a beat as I looked up to see my little bacha smiling widely at me, his tiny hands gripping the edge of the sofa for support as he tried to stand on his wobbly feet. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
From the other side of the room, Ankita was walking toward him, carrying his favorite mashed vegetables, but she, too, stopped dead in her tracks.
Our eyes locked, wide with shock and disbelief.
We stared at each other, both of us unsure if this moment was real.
“Dadda!!!”This time, his voice was louder, full of excitement, as if he was calling out to make sure I hadn’t missed it.
He took his first shaky step toward me, his face lighting up with pride and determination.
I dropped to my knees, arms spread wide, coaxing him to come closer. “Come to me, bacha,” I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest.
My eyes never left him as he took slow, careful baby steps, each one filling me with a kind of joy I couldn’t even begin to describe.
My son. Walking. Toward me.
Just then, mumma and papa entered the room, drawn by the sound of his excited voice.
They stood at the doorway, frozen in place, their expressions mirroring my awe.
My heart swelled as I watched him inch toward me, his little legs moving with a mixture of uncertainty and excitement.
My eyes filled with tears of pride, my throat tightening as I held back a sob.
He was doing it—walking on his own for the very first time.
But just as he was about to reach my arms, his legs wobbled, and he nearly lost his balance.
In a flash, I caught him, pulling him into my arms, showering his chubby face with kisses.
“Dadda! Dadda!” he giggled, his tiny hands caressing my face, as if telling me he had walked all by himself.
“Yes, bacha, I saw it!” I said, my voice thick with emotion as I held him tightly.
“I saw your first walk. Dadda is so proud of you, mere bacha.” I couldn’t stop smiling, my heart bursting with joy.
He let out a sweet giggle and kissed my nose, his tiny lips brushing against my skin.
I had already accepted him as my child long ago, but hearing him call me dadda—there was no way to put into words the depth of what I felt in that moment.
It was as if my heart had found a piece it didn’t even know it was missing.
The love, the pride—it was overwhelming.
Ankita’s POV:
Ankita stood rooted to the spot, unsure of how to react. Her heart was racing with emotions she couldn't quite grasp.
She was happy—more than happy—that her baby had taken his first step.
But hearing him calling Aryan "dadda" for the first time stirred something deep within her.
She felt a bittersweet wave of emotions crashing over her.
She had always known that her baby had a special bond with Aryan. It was clear from the way his eyes lit up whenever he saw his chachu, the way he clung to him, trusted him.
But today, the word "dadda" left no room for doubt. Her baby didn’t just see Aryan as his chachu anymore in his heart,
Aryan had taken on a much bigger role—a father figure.Ankita swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly as she watched Aryan holding her baby, his face glowing with joy.
Her chest tightened with a mix of happiness and uncertainty. This was the moment that confirmed everything she had been feeling.
Her son had chosen Aryan, had given him the title that once only belonged to one person.
The elderly couple, exchanged worried glances. They, too, were feeling the weight of what had just happened.
In the room,
Ankita couldn't shake off the feeling what just happened downstairs. She is feeling too much guilty right now..
She took Ansh in her lap facing her trying to make him understand..
'Chachu is not your dadda. He is your real dadda bacha' she pointed at the person in the photo frame.
Ansh looks at the person in the photo frame and looking at her face innocent time to time..
He couldn't understand what she is telling right now..
She again repeats,
'yes shona he is your dadda'
His little eyesbrows furrowed confusingly saying, 'Dadda' as if both the person is the same person..
Ofcourse you can't expect a child to have a knowledge between the twins right??
'No baby this is your dadda..see his eyes baby ,it's different..' she pointing at his eyes desperately..
But all Ansh could do was clap his tiny hands and shout with joy,
“Dadda!” He giggled, clearly delighted with himself, not understanding the weight of the word or the significance of what she was trying to convey.
To him, both Aryan and Aditya in the picture were the same,his dadda, and his world remained simple, filled with nothing but love and happiness.
Ankita sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of Ansh’s head, knowing that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t erase the bond her son had already formed with Aryan. And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to.
